


Tonight the stars are falling

by AndalusianSunshine



Series: The night the sky exploded [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndalusianSunshine/pseuds/AndalusianSunshine
Summary: Three years after returning to their own reality, Sergio and Gerard have settled into a comfortable life with each other, but with retirement looming on the horizon, their relationship suddenly faces a whole new set of challenges. When a nasty argument leads to a bitter breakup, the universe has to intervene once again.Forced to navigate yet another new reality, one where neither of them is famous, will they find their way to each other again?Sequel toThe night the sky exploded
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos
Series: The night the sky exploded [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955692
Comments: 49
Kudos: 103





	1. Sergio

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [The night the sky exploded](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047170)
> 
> I guess this could be read as a stand-alone, but some things might feel a bit confusing without knowing what happened in the first part. So if you have the time i'd recommend reading _The night the sky exploded_ first.
> 
> I've already finished the first 4 chapters and i have a 2 week vacation coming up, so updates will be fairly regular. So far i'm planning to post a new chapter every other week on Sundays.
> 
> Title once again borrowed from _Unstoppable_ by Paperwhite
> 
> And for everyone wondering/worrying about the future of my Bodyswap AU: I definitely plan on finishing it at some point. I just needed to take a step back from it for a while and focus on something else. The plot was supposed to follow the 2019/20 season all the way to the end, but with everything that happened this year, i just haven't had the energy to figure out what i'm going to do with it now.

Sergio groans as he rubs his stiff neck. His shoulder throbs, there’s a sharp pain in his lower back and every part of his body aches. Clearly he should just stop falling asleep on the sofa. But just the thought of dragging himself to his dark and empty bedroom makes his heart clench with loneliness.

He squints at the bright screen of his phone, winces when it’s barely past 3 in the morning and maybe he could still get a few hours of sleep if he could just bring himself to go to bed, but ever since Gerard left there’s nothing but happy memories and heartache haunting him whenever he lies awake in his empty bed.

His fingers hover over Gerard’s number and it would be so easy to just call him, to apologize for being a stubborn asshole and beg for his forgiveness, just anything to get him to come back.

_If you really think that, you might as well just leave._

The words still echo in his head, still feel like a stab to his heart, hurting more than any injury ever could and he knows he won’t ever forget the venom in Gerard’s voice, the disdain in his blue eyes.

He curses at himself and tosses his phone on the armchair opposite him, so he doesn’t do anything stupid, watches it bounce off a pillow and slide onto the floor, because he’s not the only one at fault here. He shouldn’t be the one apologizing first, shouldn’t come groveling after the way Gerard treated him. He shouldn’t even still be moping about their breakup. 

It’s been three weeks. Three fucking weeks without a single word or text from Gerard. Nothing but silence and indifference and he’s sick of it. Sick of feeling completely heartbroken, sick of pining after someone who clearly never cared as much as he did.

What he should be doing is go on Grindr and find a hot guy to hook up with, he thinks. Someone who’ll help him forget that Gerard ever existed.

The thought alone makes him feel nauseous.

He rubs at his eyes, body feeling heavy and drained of energy, but his brain is still annoyingly awake and he knows he won’t get any more sleep tonight, no matter how hard he tries, so he might as well work on his coaching license, tire out his mind with tactic sheets and boring rule books.

\----------------------------------------------

Sergio’s head pounds when he wakes up and he hasn’t had a headache this bad since - He jolts upright, instantly wide awake and he’s not at all surprised that he’s in a room he’s never seen before. This time however he isn’t scared and freaked-out. This time he knows exactly what happened and how to fix everything.

He rolls over with a hopeful little smile on his face, only partly deterred when he finds the bed next to him empty, because he knows Gerard must be somewhere in the house, he just has to go and find him.

He jumps out of bed and stubs his toe on the nightstand, a colorful curse leaving his lips at the throbbing pain in his foot, but it doesn’t slow him down as he rushed towards the door, pulling it open a little too violently, ready to search every corner of the house until he finds Gerard.

But he comes to a dead stop just outside the door because there is no giant house to explore, no more hidden corners to search. There’s only one more room, tiny and crammed with furniture, a table and some wobbly chairs, a kitchenette and a ratty old sofa, only one small window at the far wall, but worst of all there’s no one there. No one looking up at him from the sofa with a smile on his face or turning towards him with a surprised frown. The room is completely empty and he’s left all alone.

For the first time since he woke up that morning panic spreads in his chest, his feet heavy as he walks towards the window, almost too afraid to look outside and the view is painfully familiar as he looks out over the grounds of his ranch, the winding driveway and the sturdy trees, the wide fields with the lake sparkling in the distance, but something about the perspective feels off, everything is just slightly in the wrong place. It takes him a while to figure out that he must be in one of the rooms above the stables, where the ranch hands usually stay. 

He looks over to the entrance gate, eyes searching for the sculpture of his initials, but in its place there’s a meaningless art piece now, one he’s never seen before and it is suddenly very clear that in this universe, this isn’t his ranch.

With a deep sigh he turns back towards the room, eyes drifting over the mess that is so clearly his and he wonders where his other self might have left his phone.

He eventually finds it on the nightstand in the bedroom, buried under a ratty old t-shirt and some magazines about horse races. 

“Finally,” he mutters to himself and plops down on the bed, quickly opening up the contact list. Surely he must have Gerard’s number saved somewhere in his contacts, but he doesn’t find him under G, the only name filed under P is his mother and he’s slowly starting to panic as he flips through the rest of the list without finding any mention of Gerard anywhere. 

He starts going through the rest of his phone, desperate now, because what’s even the point in coming to this universe if he doesn’t know Gerard here?

Twenty minutes later he’s ready to toss his stupid phone at the nearest wall. There’s no evidence of Gerard anywhere on the device. No phone number, no text messages, not a single picture of him in the photo gallery. Just horses, a couple of people he’s never seen before and a schedule that makes absolutely no sense to him and even a lengthy google search brings up absolutely nothing, no wikipedia entries, no articles, not even social media accounts or any mention of him anywhere.

Frustrated he lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling, his chest empty and most of the hope from earlier vanished completely and how is he supposed to fix their relationship if he can’t even find him? How is he supposed to get back to his own universe now? He starts counting the cracks in the ceiling and he has half a mind to just stay in bed all day and wallow in self-pity, but eventually his curiosity gets the better of him. Partly willing to forgive the treacherous device he reaches for his phone again, this time typing his own name into the search field. 

He finally finds the first mention of himself on the fifth page, a link to some blurry picture one of his friends posted on facebook and if that isn’t an embarrassing blow to his ego. It’s suddenly painfully obvious that they’re both not famous in this universe.

His stomach suddenly grumbles loudly and with a groan he rolls out of bed again. He needs food and coffee, but most of all he needs some answers, so he dials his brother’s number, waits nervously for him to pick up, not sure what to expect.

“What are you already doing up?” Rene answers on the third ring.

“It’s almost noon,” Sergio replies and the familiar sound of his brother’s voice, the easiness of their exchange almost makes his eyes tear up. At least one thing that hasn’t changed.

“Exactly,” Rene’s retorts and Sergio can hear his smirk through the phone. “You were still at the club when i left at four. Did the guy already leave?”

“What guy?”

“I don’t know. One of the guys you were throwing yourself at all night. Wait, did you take more than one home?”

“I didn’t take anyone home,” Sergio blurts out before he can stop himself. It’s not like he actually knows what his other self did last night. He’s just glad that he was alone when he woke up, not sure what he would have done had there been a complete stranger in his bed. He shudders at the thought.

“That would be a first,” Rene deadpans, but Sergio ignores him. He has more important things to deal with than his brother’s opinions about his love life.

“Hey can i ask you something?” He starts, but can’t really figure out how to phrase his questions without sounding suspicious or like a lunatic. “Am i good at football?”

“What?” Rene sounds confused, but Sergio can’t really fault him for that. It’s not like the question makes much sense. ”I guess so,” he eventually continues. “Haven’t seen you play in a while though. You used to be pretty good as a kid. Why are you asking me questions like that?”

“So i’m not a famous footballer?” Sergio asks, tries to make it sound like a joke but his heart still beats anxiously while he waits for an answer. If they’re not rich, not famous it’s going to be infinitely harder to find Gerard, especially since he doesn’t seem to be a part of this Sergio’s life.

“Of course not,” Rene laughs. “How much did you have to drink last night?”

“Never mind,” Sergio mumbles, steering the conversation back into safer territory again. He knows from experience that he’ll get his answers eventually, as long as he stays patient and doesn’t give himself away. There’s no use trying to force them, no matter how curious or impatient he might be.

They keep talking for a while, but Sergio doesn’t really manage to get any more information about his new life. When they hang up he feels drained.

He wanders over to the kitchenette to finally make himself some coffee and he can deal with not being a footballer or not being famous, but he needs to find Gerard as soon as possible. If he’s in Sevilla, he figures there’s a good chance Gerard is still in Barcelona. Now he just needs a way to find out his address.

Do phonebooks still exist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- for anyone wondering, [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/CDYzSTmI4Ph) is the statue of Sergio's initials at his ranch in Sevilla.


	2. Gerard

“Are you gonna mope all night?” Cesc puts another round of drinks on the table before he settles on the chair next to Gerard. In the distance there’s laughter and loud music, the characteristic sounds of a crowded bar drifting over towards them, but in their little corner they’re safely hidden away from prying eyes, giving them just enough privacy to hang out without being recognized.

“I’m not moping,” Gerard replies petulantly, cradles his fresh glass of beer in his palms and he wishes they would just leave him alone and maybe he should have just stayed home tonight.

Leo only raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him while Cesc’s scowl becomes even more pronounced.

“Sure,” he replies sarcastically. “That’s why you’ve barely said a word all night. It’s quite rude actually. I came all the way to Barcelona to spend time with my friends and your being like this.”

Gerard can only shrug at that. It’s not like Cesc isn’t right. He’s been terrible company so far, but he can’t help it. He’s had that hollow feeling gnawing at his chest ever since that guy had walked into the bar a few hours ago, covered in tattoos and pathetically made him think of Sergio and usually he’s better at hiding his feelings, doesn’t think about him every single second of the day anymore, but sometimes the smallest thing will remind him of the other man, his whole body suddenly aching with a bone-deep longing for what they used to have. 

“What’s up with him anyway?” Cesc turns towards Leo.

“Ramos and him broke up,” Leo explains.

“And?” Cesc cocks his head to the side questioningly. “I can’t believe it lasted that long anyway. Three years is a lot for a casual thing.”

Gerard makes a pained sound in the back of his throat and he almost wants to laugh at the ridiculous statement. There was never anything casual about the way he feels - _felt_ about Sergio.

They both look at him with concern in their eyes and he can barely suppress another groan.

“I don’t think it was just that,” Leo remarks thoughtfully, his gaze a little too observant as he studies Gerard. “What ever happened between you two anyway?”

“Fuck if i know,” Gerard shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. He’s decidedly too sober for this kind of conversation. “We were just having a normal conversation about what we’ll do when we eventually retire, stuff like maybe moving in together, you know,” he makes a vague gesture with his hands. “And he just automatically assumed i would move to Madrid. He didn’t even consider my opinion or ask what i wanted. He had it all figured out and when i suggested he could just as well move to Barcelona he got angry,” he lets out a deep sigh and the memory still hurts, still makes his heart ache.

_I’m not moving to that stupid city._

And it was said with such a vehemence, such a finality, like somehow the city mattered more than Gerard, like Sergio couldn’t even bring himself to care enough about Gerard to make even the slightest sacrifice. 

“That’s it?” Cesc asks incredulously. “You’re both idiots.”

Gerard sighs again. “He just walked out, like i meant nothing to him,” and just thinking about that moment still makes his heart feel frayed at the edges.

“Maybe you should just call him,” Leo suggest, voice soft and calming. “Try to talk things out with him. You’re both being stubborn.”

Gerard hums noncommittally. “I’m not sure he even wants to talk anymore. He could have just called if i still meant anything to him.”

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Cesc chimes in, clearly taking Leo’s side and making Gerard feel even more awful.

“Can we just not talk about this anymore,” Gerard stares morosely at his empty glass. “I’m over it.”

Leo and Cesc exchange a knowing look but thankfully don’t say anything.

“We need more beer,” Cesc eventually declares and pushes his chair back to make another run to the bar. 

\--------

Gerard squeezes his eyes shut and pulls the blanket over his head, anything to block out the overly bright sunlight and maybe he shouldn’t have had this much to drink last night.

He fumbles for the bottle of water he knows is sitting on his nightstand, but startles when his hand meets solid wood instead of the expected metal frame. Confused he disentangles himself from the blanket, squints because the sun is still too bright, shining annoyingly through the gap in the curtains and why can he never close them properly?

He blinks into the room and feels temporary relief wash through him when he immediately recognizes his surroundings, the dark blue curtains framing the floor length windows, the worn-out wooden desk, all those memories from his childhood still scattered all across the room and he should probably be more concerned that he has no memory of crashing at his parents’ place last night, but he’s too tired to really care.

He’s just about to drift back to sleep when the door to his room suddenly bursts open. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

His mother’s panicked voice startles him upright and for a moment he can only gape at her in surprise, his tired mind frantically trying to process what important event he might have forgotten. 

He comes up completely empty.

“You have to be at work in half an hour and you’re still in bed,” she keeps scolding him, ripping open curtains and windows, all the while throwing disapproving glares in his direction.

_Work? What work?_ There’s no training today. He’s absolutely sure of that. It’s the only reason why it was even possible to go out with Cesc and Leo last night, so what exactly is she talking about? It makes no sense.

“Good morning, Mom,” he offers weakly and shouldn’t she be happy he came over to visit? With everything going on their lives it’s been weeks since they’ve last seen each other.

“There’s nothing good about this morning if you get fired,” she declares and frankly Gerard is starting to get a little frightened and it’s only by chance really that his gaze drifts over towards the shelves with his football trophies, the medals from his childhood and all the ones he won later in life too and he still remembers how his brother used to mock him when his mother started putting them all on display, like it was their own little family museum.

Just that now there are no trophies, the shelves stacked with nothing but books and folders.

“Hey, what did you do with my trophies?” he asks, a little hurt that she would just get rid of them without even telling him about it.

“What trophies?” his mother looks up at him with a frown, her arms filled with what Gerard assumes is his dirty laundry. “I haven’t changed anything in your room in years.”

“Never mind then,” Gerard mumbles, but there’s suddenly fear gripping his chest because something clearly doesn’t add up. “Can you give me a minute to get ready?” he asks, anything to get her out of the room, so he can finally think properly.

“Sure,” she nods, disappearing out of the room in a flurry of movements.

The moment she’s out the door he jumps out of bed and rushes over to his desk, hoping he’ll find some answers in the stacks of paper cluttering the wooden surface, but most of them are just spreadsheets filled with numbers and letters that make absolutely no sense to him. So he moves on quickly, eyes scanning the book case curiously, only to find it filled with a frightening amount of accounting text books, his closet crammed with nothing but boring looking business suits and none of it makes any sense until his gaze gets stuck on a framed certificate hanging just above his desk, a degree in economics from the University of Barcelona.

His breath gets stuck in his throat and it almost feels like he’s in a parallel universe …

_Fuck._

He sags into the nearest chair, suddenly feeling light-headed and nauseous and this can’t be happening, not again, but it would explain everything so damn perfectly.

He reaches for his laptop with trembling hands and he almost doesn’t dare type his name into the search bar, already knows what’s going to appear even before the site is done loading and yet it still makes his stomach churn when there’s no wikipedia entry listing all his achievements, no mention of his last match and all the trophies he’s won, nothing left of his career, not even the articles criticizing his performance or behavior. The only thing he finds is an article about his new employer when he types in the company name he found on most of the spreadsheets and apparently in this reality he’s an accountant. If he didn’t feel like screaming in annoyance so much it would actually be quite funny.

He searches for Sergio, just because he’s curious, but instantly wishes he hadn’t. It’s like he doesn’t exist in this world. No social media accounts, no nothing. A quick check of his phone confirms that he doesn’t have his number either, but maybe that’s the point of being here, he thinks, maybe the universe is telling him it’s time to finally move on.

When he goes downstairs an hour later, he feels marginally calmer. He’s had a long shower and enough time to think, even managed to call in sick without raising any suspicions. Now he just needs to figure out how to get back to his own reality.

Lost in thought he almost bumps into his mother, barely manages to stop himself in time. “Sorry,” he mumbles apologetically, but she only smiles warmly at him and a part of him just wants to hug her and tell her everything.

“You have football training today, right?” She asks, completely oblivious to the turmoil going on inside of Gerard. “I just got your kit out of the laundry.”

Gerard has no idea if he has training or not later, so he just nods and figures he’s just going to check the calender of his phone when he’s alone again, hopes his other self actually keeps track of his appointments.

“Good,” she hands him a stack of clothes, blue shorts and a yellow shirt, a pair of striped socks. The logo looks like something he would expect from a third rate amateur club, but since he has a proper job now it makes sense that he’d play just for fun and not for a more professional club.

“Thanks,” he smiles, gratefully accepting the bundle and he’s too afraid to ask why there’s a pair of goalkeeper gloves lying on top of the neatly folded stack of clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a sidenote: Gerard's mother is actually a neurosurgeon and department head of a hospital in Barcelona, but for the sake of this story and since this is an alternate reality anyway we're just gonna pretend she's a housewife.


	3. Sergio

Sergio jumps in surprise when his phone pings with a new notification, almost forgets to push the pan off the stove as he launches across the table to reach for it. His hope however is short lived, a disappointed sigh escaping him when he glances at the new instagram notification because instead of the one person he so desperate wants as a follower, ever since he created his account a week ago, it’s just another random stranger.

And he still can’t believe he even came up with an idea this genius, somewhere between almost getting trampled by a horse and stumbling into a pile of manure, when he’d all but lost hope of ever finding Gerard. Until it had occurred to him that if he can’t find him, maybe he’ll just have to help Gerard along in finding him.

He opens up his page and frowns at his 78 followers and it seems like such a ridiculously small amount compared to the 40 million he’s used to, but then again now that he’s not famous anymore he should probably be proud. If only any of them would matter when he’s really only waiting for one particular person.

He thumbs through his direct messages, groans at all the girls asking for his number or a date and he probably shouldn’t have posted so many shirtless selfies.

With another drawn out sigh he shoves his phone into his pocket and maybe he should start making his peace with the fact that Gerard just doesn’t want to be found. Short of an impulsive trip to Barcelona and searching the whole city for him, he’s all out of ideas and it’s not like he has the money for an endeavour like that anyway, wouldn’t even know where to start when he never made the effort of finding out more about Gerard’s past, when he’s never even met his parents before. It’s something he very much regrets now.

He chops his tomatoes a little more forcefully than necessary, mostly angry at himself for not paying more attention to the state of their relationship. He’s just about to add them to the pan when his phone rings.

“What?” he answers, not bothering to check the caller ID. It’s probably his brother anyway.

“Hey Sergio,” turns out it’s Alberto, one of his old friends from school and when it feels like you’ve known each other forever, it’s even harder to hide a fifteen year gap of memories.

He swallows an annoyed groan and tries to flip over is omelette with one hand, phone squished between his cheek and his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Lucas is having a barbeque in his garden. Wanna come over?”

“I can’t,” Sergio answers. “I’m in the middle of making lunch.”

Alberot laughs. “Burnt eggs doesn’t count as lunch.”

“Hey,” Sergio protests indignantly, but there’s suddenly a suspicious amount of smoke coming from he pan, his eggs rapidly turning black. “Shit.”

“See,” Alberto teases and for a moment the line falls silent except for his friend’s laughter and Sergio’s quiet curses and it feels achingly normal, like his whole world isn’t still completely turned upside down.

“But seriously,” Alberto eventually breaks the silence. “You’ve been so distant lately. We’re all starting to get worried.”

“Sorry,” Sergio mumbles and dumps the pan in the sink. There’s really nothing he can do now to salvage his food. “I’ve just been busy lately,” he explains which is mostly the truth but also he’s been terribly afraid of letting his guard down around his friends. It’s easier to pretend with people he doesn’t know from his old life, when he’s constantly reminded that nothing is the way he remembers.

“Then come over and let us help you out,” Alberto insists. “I promise we’ll feed you, too.”

Sergio laughs. “Fine,” he answers and what’s the harm really, he can spare a few hours for his friends. Ever since he’s landed in this new reality he’s been so busy with his search for Gerard, he’s barely had any time for himself. “I’ll be there soon.”

He throws on a clean t-shirt and a pair of shorts before he heads out and it’s not like he has much to chose from anyway. His wardrobe consists mostly of boring work clothes and worn sneakers and if his bank account wasn’t in such a sad state, he’d totally go on an extended shopping spree.

An hour later he’s in his friend’s garden, with a bottle of beer in hand and the delicious smell of barbeque making his mouth water.

“Here,” Alberto hands him a plate of salad, smirks at him smugly. “We wouldn’t want you to starve.”

“Shut up,” Sergio protests with a grin. “I’m not that bad at cooking.”

“The evidence says otherwise,” someone else snickers but Sergio doesn’t bother turning around, throws the cap of his beer bottle at Alberto instead. 

“Did you tell on me?”

“I would never,” Alberto laughs and it’s so obviously a lie Sergio can’t help but join in his laughter and God it feels good to just relax and enjoy himself for once. He’s been so busy trying to fit into his new life without giving himself away, adjusting to a new job he’s really not qualified for and spending all his free time searching for Gerard, he barely had a minute to relax.

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, lets the sun shine into his face, the low chatter of his friends almost lulling him to sleep and for a while it’s almost like he’s back in his own reality spending one of his precious free weekends with his friends on his ranch and he’d all but forgotten the easy comradery they’ve always shared, even if his friends here know a different version of him.

“Are you ever going to tell us what’s been bugging you?” a voice says next to him, followed by a loud screeching noise and Sergio reluctantly blinks his eyes open, frowns at Alberto who’s pulling up a chair next to him.

“It’s nothing,” he answers, pulls his sunglasses back over his eyes.

“Bullshit,” Alberto shakes his head insistently. “You’ve barely talked to us all week and you never pass up on a chance to go out, so spit it out.”

Sergio grumbles under his breath. Couldn’t his _new_ friends have been at least a little less perceptive than his old ones? “I’ve been looking for someone.”

“Like what? A relative?” Alberto asks curiously.

“No,” Sergio shakes his head, wonders how much of the real story he should reveal. “I’ve met someone and i’d like to see him again.”

Alberto’s eyes widen in surprise. “You mean one of your hook-ups? Have you actually fallen for someone this time?” 

“I guess so,” Sergio shrugs, pretends he has to think about his answer. “I think i really like him” he answers finally and God he’s gotten way too good at lying.

“That’s so cute,” Alberto grins widely. “It was about time you fell in love too.”

Sergio huffs out an indignant breath. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t be like that,” Alberto laughs. “So what’s the problem? Does he no like you back?”

“That’s not it, i think,” Sergio hesitates and how best to explain this without sounding like a complete lunatic? “I don’t have his number, so i’ve been trying to get his attention all week. I’ve done everything i could think of, but he never responded.”

Alberto studies him thoughtfully. “Have you ever considered that he might not be worth it? If he was truly interested wouldn’t he have come looking for you already? You have guys lining up for you every time we go out. Why waste your time on someone who’s clearly not interested?”

Sergio hums thoughtfully and maybe he’s been going at it all wrong. What if he’s supposed to look for a way back to his own universe instead of trying to find Gerard? What if he was sent to this universe so he could well and truly get over Gerard?


	4. Gerard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this fic, Gerard and Shakira have never met in his original universe.

Gerard hates his new life. As if it wasn’t bad enough already that he still lives at home, his mother constantly nagging him about something or other, his job is nothing but mind numbingly boring. Hours and hours of sitting behind a desk, balancing books and shuffling around numbers. It took him over a week of online tutorials and poring over textbooks just to teach himself the basics, so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and yet he still has to ask his coworkers for help with almost everything. It’s more than depressing.

Thank God it’s finally Saturday, he thinks as rolls out of bed and hurriedly gets dressed. Now he won’t have to deal with any of it for the next two days, well except for his overbearing mother who won’t stop meddling in his private life.

With a sigh he climbs down the stairs to the kitchen and as expected she’s at the stove bustling over pots and pans, the coffee machine spluttering in the distance.

“I’ve made you breakfast,” she beams up at him and Gerard knows she only means well, but God he seriously needs to get his own place soon or preferably find a way back to his own universe.

“Thanks,” he mumbles and sits down at the table, knows from hard-learned experience that trying to help won’t end well.

“So how did your date go last week?” she asks, placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

Gerard groans inwardly. “It didn’t work out. She couldn’t come,” he lies, embarrassment making his neck flush and he can’t help but think back to that awkward phone call when he had stuttered out his apology, feigning a bad case of the flu because he just couldn’t bring himself to actually go and lead the poor girl on, only to realize she was just as happy about him canceling as he was.

“That’s too bad,” his mother hums disappointedly. “You would have made a great couple.”

Gerard nods in agreement, even if he doesn’t really mean it and for a few short moments he mistakenly believes he successfully navigated himself out of that particular minefield, but as usual he completely underestimated her persistence.

“But don’t worry honey,” she gently pats him on the shoulder. “I talked to Maria this morning and her daughter is in town for the weekend. I’ll give her a call right away and set up a date for you. She’s perfect for you,” she gushes and turns back to the stove, thankfully doesn’t see Gerard roll his eyes and how he suddenly misses the old version of his mother. The one that was too busy running a hospital to meddle in her son’s lives, the one who would let her boys do whatever they wanted because she just wanted them to be happy.

“Don’t you think i’m old enough to make my own choices, now?” he asks tentatively.

“Honey, you’re almost thirty-five” she places his plate in front of him, softly caresses his shoulder, but her pointed glare doesn’t make him flinch any less. “It’s about time you start thinking about starting a family. I’m only trying to look out for you.”

Gerard suppresses a sigh and it would be so tempting to just tell her that’s is not going to work out the way she wants it to.

 _I’m gay._ he wants to say. _I already found someone i want to spend my life with_ , but he doesn’t even know if Sergio still wants him back or how to find him and he has no idea how his mother is going to react when it’s so very obvious that he’s not out in this universe or maybe his other self is actually straight. The whole thing is starting to give him a headache, so he decides to focus on his breakfast instead.

And that’s how he finds himself in his car later that night, dressed in his best suit, fingers nervously drumming on the steering wheel as he navigates the streets of Barcelona on his way to pick up his blind date for the evening.

She’s already waiting for him when he pulls up, dressed in a black dress and matching heels, her curly hair falling softly past her shoulder and Gerard’s jaw drops in surprise when he realizes he knows her.

His palms are ridiculously clammy as he climbs out of his car and it’s a little embarrassing just how starstruck he feels.

“I’m Shakira,” she says when he hurries to open the door for her, leaning up to kiss his cheeks in greeting and he barely manages not to blurt out _I know_ like the complete idiot that he is.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Gerard,” he responds as he heads back to the drivers side, hopes his cheeks aren’t as flaming red as they feel.

“So, do you always have your Mom set up your dates for you?” she asks, smiling mischievously at him and he has to remind himself that in this universe she’s just a normal girl and not a world famous singer that he’s admired for years. 

“Have you met my mom?” Gerard laughs a little shakily. “You assume that i actually had a choice.”

“Fair enough,” Shakira chuckles. “She’s a force of nature.”

“Exactly,” Gerard grins and he instantly likes her, her sharp tongue and her sense of humor, her easy-going attitude and the way she immediately made him feel at ease. By they time they pull up to the restaurant it feels like they’ve been friends forever.

Gerard looks around the restaurant as the waiter leads them to their table, taking in the colorful art and the cozy atmosphere, glancing at Shakira’s happy smile and now he’s glad he picked something laid-back and unpretentious, figures she wouldn’t have felt all that comfortable in a more upscale place.

Sergio would have definitely loved this place, he thinks, doesn’t expect the thought to hurt this much.

“I hope you like Chinese food,” he says when they settle in their chairs, the waiter handing them their menus.

“I do,” she nods. “And i’m starving.”

“I’m glad,” Gerard smiles and turns to his menu and suddenly out of nowhere he’s reminded of the first time he had taken Sergio on a proper date to a restaurant, just a few weeks after they had come back from the other reality, when he had still been so head over heels he could barely think of anything but Sergio. The whole thing had been a complete nightmare, from having to sneak through the backdoor to having to bribe the staff so they wouldn’t sell them out to the press, having to eat in a back room so they other guests wouldn’t see them and yet he had never had this much fun on a date before, never enjoyed someone’s company this much. 

Still after all these years it’s the best date he’s ever been on.

“Have you decided yet?” Shakira’s question pulls him out of his thoughts and there’s that feeling of guilt in the pit of his gut again, making his stomach churn and his skin itch and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, to get her hopes up while he’s pining for someone else.

“I have to tell you something,” he says, determinedly putting his menu down.

Shakira looks up at him expectantly.

“You’re beautiful and incredibly nice,” he starts and God it feels so incredibly cliche and painfully inadequate for what he’s about to do. “But there’s never going to be anything more between us. I’m sorry,” he finishes lamely.

“What?” Shakira looks equal parts hurt and shocked and it’s not like Gerard can really fault her for it. “Don’t you think that’s a little unfair? We’ve barely known each other for an hour. You’re not even giving me a chance.”

 _It’s not you, it’s me_ keeps ringing in his head and God he feels like such an asshole. He should have just stood up to his Mom and never agreed to go on this date in the first place. “I’m gay.”

“Oh.”

“Look, i’ll totally understand if you don’t want be here with me anymore. We can just leave and i’ll take you home if that’s what you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” Shakira shrugs and there’s a faint smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I think the least you can do is buy me dinner after i got all dressed up for nothing.”

“Whatever you want,” he smiles softly and maybe there’s actually a chance he’ll be forgiven eventually. 

The rest of their meal passes amicably and it’s even more fun to talk to her now that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. 

“You know,” she says just as the waiter places their desserts in front of them. “I think we’re much better off as friends anyway.”

“I’d really like that,” Gerard smiles, a surge of relief washing through him.

“So now that we’ve got that out of the way,” she grins mirthfully and Gerard has the distinct feeling he’s going to start dreading that particular smile in the future. “Tell me, are you seeing someone? Does your mother know? I want all the dirty details. If i don’t get romance, i expect entertainment.”

“Are you always this relentless?” Gerard laughs. “And no, my mother doesn’t know and no i’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“Boring,” Shakira pouts. “Is there at least someone you like?”

“No…,” Gerard hesitates. “Yes, kind of. It’s complicated.”

Shakira takes a large spoonful of her ice cream. “Tell me about it. Maybe i can help. I’ve been told i give incredible relationship advice,” she smirks.

Gerard laughs and usually he wouldn’t be this open about his private life with someone he just met, but there’s a voice inside him that keeps telling him that he can trust her. “There used to be someone,” he starts. “We dated for a while but we didn’t exactly part on good terms. I don’t even know where he is right now.”

“Do you still love him?” Shakira cocks her head to the side, studies him thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Gerard replies without hesitation, surprising even himself with how easy it was to answer that particular question.

“Then i think you should go look for him,” she says. “Try to work through whatever pulled you apart. You don’t give up on love that easily.”


	5. Sergio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post a new chapter every week from now on since i want to get this finished and posted before the end of the year.

_One month later_

Sergio loves his new life on the ranch. Even if it means having to get up at the crack of dawn to feed the horses, even if he spends most of his time knee deep in dirt and hay. There’s just something incredibly peaceful about being able to spend all day outside, just enjoying nature and his favorite animals without ever having to worry about running into someone who might recognize him. It’s nice not being famous for once.

He leans back on the bank of the small lake, props himself up on his elbows, feet dipping into the shallow water as he looks out over the property and he doesn’t even mind that in this universe he has to work hard to stay at the place he’s so used to calling his own. In all the years he’s never been able to spend this much time here and every day he discovers something new. A new favorite place or hidden corner that makes him fall in love with his home all over again.

The water laps softly around his ankles, the evening sun is hot on his skin and maybe he’s been so caught up in the routines of his career that he’d forgotten what truly matters in life. Between all the countless matches and travels, rushing from one place to another without ever having time to stop, days ruthlessly blending into one another and everyone trying to pull him in different directions his priorities had somehow gotten distorted. And yet through it all, he’d never lost his love for football, a giant empty hole in the middle of his chest now whenever he thinks back to the legendary nights under the gleaming lights of the Bernabeu, thousands of people screaming his name and the absolute freedom he felt whenever it was just him on the pitch, ball at his feet and the taste of victory on his tongue. There’s nothing that could ever compare to the feeling.

A duck quacks in the distance, waddling along the little island in the middle of the lake and it makes him laugh almost long enough to distract him from his next thought.

He closes his against against the inevitable burn that he knows will come whenever he thinks of Gerard, the one person he misses even more than football and he tried at first, stupidly he tried, fought with every fiber of his being to forget about him, to move on and find happiness on his own. Until he’s realized one morning, half-asleep under the pouring spray of his shower, that it won’t work, when he can’t imagine a single version of his life without Gerard in it, when the thought alone brings tears to his eyes and makes his heart crack at the edges and he’s spent the following weeks dissecting every aspect of their relationship, reliving every moment and there’s so many things he regrets now that the shame won’t let him get to sleep most nights.

His phone dings with a notification and he absentmindedly glances at it, turns it back over when it’s just someone sending a youtube link in the group chat: _Most epic goalie fails_. The chat soon blows up with all kinds of amused reactions and laughing emojis and he’s sure on a different day he’d be right there laughing along with them. But right now, he’s just not in the mood.

He lies down in the grass instead, closes his eyes and dreams of a life with Gerard on his ranch that he knows he’ll never have.

It’s by pure chance that he remembers the video a couple of hours later. It must be around three in the morning, Sergio thinks, while he’s sitting uselessly and very uncomfortably on a small plastic chair just outside one of the stables, waiting for the doctor to bring yet another foal into this life and he’s still not quite sure why they even need a night shift when there’s never anything useful for him to do, but then again they’re paying him double, so he’s definitely not going to complain.

Desperately trying to stay awake he finally clicks on the link, frowns when the video is more than thirty minutes long, but it’s not like he’s got anything better to do and judging from the sounds coming from the box behind him, it’s going to be a long night anyway.

It starts out with the usual stuff, misjudged dives and easy balls being dropped in unfortunate locations, nothing he hasn’t seen about a hundred times before. He yawns tiredly and he’s almost tempted to just skip the whole thing but then eventually it gets more entertaining, the fails more outrageous, even if some of them look rather faked. Who would get a drink in the middle of a match and then be so busy fiddling with his towel that he’d miss an entire attack on his own goal and just let the ball roll into the back of the net without putting up any resistance whatsoever? 

He’s so busy trying to wrap his head around it that he almost misses the next clip. Some guy watching a bird hop around on the sidelines, so mesmerized by it that he doesn’t see the striker approaching with the ball or hear his own teammates calling out to him and Sergio can barely keep himself from yelling at his phone like an idiot, wants to warn him with every fiber of his being, because God he knows what’s going to happen long before it actually does and not just because the scene wouldn’t be in the video otherwise. 

He breathes an embarrassing sigh of relief when the guy’s head snaps up just in time, shocked eyes zeroing in on his opponent and Sergio thinks maybe it isn’t too late yet, holds on to the last shred of hope as he watches the guy sprint towards the ball, surprisingly quick for his tall frame and lanky limbs, but just as he’s about to dive for the ball he trips over his own feet, falling flat on his face instead of catching the ball, helplessly watches the ball sail into the back of the empty net.

Sergio can’t decide if he should laugh or feel sorry for the guy but then suddenly none of it matters anymore when the video zooms in on the goalie’s face and his heart skips a desperate beat. And even with the bad quality of the video and the small size of his phone screen there isn’t a single doubt that the person standing in he middle of the penalty box, gloved hands hanging awkwardly by his side and looking completely crestfallen, is none other than Gerard. 

He jumps to his feet so quickly his chair topples over and clatters noisily to the ground. “I have to go,” he yells to no one in particular as he chases out of the stables.

He’s halfway to the train station when he realizes he actually has no idea where he’s supposed to go. He gets on the next train to Barcelona anyway, spends the rest of his hard earned money on the ticket, because he’s sure there was a Catalan flag somewhere in the back of the video and he has to start his search somewhere.

It takes most of the train ride, various comments under the video and one very helpful youtube user until he’s finally figured out the name of Gerard’s club, His phone almost out of battery when the train rolls into Barcelona and he’s finally scrolling through the team roster on the club website.

From there it’s fairly easy to figure out Gerard’s address, even if he can’t suppress a grin when he realizes Gerard must still be living at home in this universe.

Less than an hour later he’s standing in one of Barcelona’s most exclusive neighborhoods, looking up at the impressive stone facade of a giant mansion and he’d always known that Gerard’s parents were rich, he’d just never realized how much of it wasn’t due to Gerard’s career.

It makes him feel desperately inadequate in his ripped jeans and ratty old t-shirt, his hands shaking embarrassingly as he reaches out to ring the doorbell.


	6. Gerard

“Gerard come and help me with this.”

He puts his book down with a sigh, follows the sound of his mother’s voice to the garden. Somehow it feels like there is always a chore or something else just waiting for him to do and he’d almost forgotten how tiring it is to be living at home. He suddenly misses his own home, just him and lots of empty space and Sergio’s annoyingly loud flamenco music the only thing ever disturbing his peace and quiet.

The thought makes his heart clench painfully and even after a month in his new life, he’s constantly on his mind, misses him more with every passing day and it feels so stupid now, throwing it all away over a inconsequential argument.

“Oh finally,” his mother waves him over when he arrives in the garden, looking up at him from under a half-trimmed hedge, a pair of garden scissors in hand and he doesn’t understand why he always gets roped into helping with garden work when he’s so very obviously terrible at it.

“Can you cut the branches at the top please?” she asks, pointing towards the ladder. 

Gerard hesitates. He has a match later today and he probably shouldn’t be climbing around in a tree just hours before kick-off, but then he remembers that here no one cares how much rest he gets or if he keeps a proper diet and exercise routines. Mostly they’re just happy if he shows up in time for the match and doesn’t do too terribly which he should probably be happy about considering his less than stellar performances in the last few matches. He still hears Sergio’s mirthful laughter in his head every time he drops a ball and yet he’d happily sacrifice every minute of his free time if he could just go back to his old life and his career, if he could just get Sergio back.

“Sure,” he nods and reaches for the scissors, returns his mother’s grateful smile before he carefully climbs the ladder. 

He’s just reached the top step when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” she says, just as he’s about to climb down again.

Gerard nods gratefully, begins trimming the hedge as she rushes to the front door, slowly working his way down from the top and hopes it won’t look too badly.

When his mother returns only a few minutes later, she’s alone.

“Who was it?” he asks curiously.

“Just some stranger.”

Gerard frowns, cuts off a wad of branches and throws them to the ground, watches his mother pick them up and shove them into a trashbag. “What did he want?” 

“He said he needed to talk to you,” Montserrat shrugs. 

Gerard hums thoughtfully. He doesn’t really have any friends in this universe who would come by to visit him on a Sunday morning or ever really, so he has no idea who it could possibly be. “Did he say what his name was?”

“I don’t remember,” she pauses to think. “He was talking so fast.”

“It’s fine,” Gerard nods. “I’m just curious who it could be.”

“I don’t think it’s someone you know,” she states and Gerard can’t help but wonder why she’s so certain. ”He didn’t look like someone you usually associate with.”

Gerard frowns. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Montserrat shrugs. “Just… he looked like a thug. He was covered in tattoos,” she visibly shudders. “He even had them on his hands… you know, like he belonged to one of those gangs from the movies.”

If his heart wasn’t almost beating out of his chest, Gerard would scold her for being so stupidly prejudiced, but as it is his throat feels so tight he can barely speak. 

There’s only one person he knows with that many tattoos.

“Tell me exactly what he looked like,” he croaks, almost stumbles in his haste to get down from the ladder.

“Why is that important now?” Montserrat looks at him a little worriedly, but Gerard couldn’t care less. He feels desperate.

“Just tell me,” he pleads.

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at him that closely,” his mother hesitates and Gerard barely resists the urge to shake the words out of her. “He was almost as tall as you, i think,” she finally continues, doesn’t look all that enthusiastic about it. “But with a lot more muscle, like he actually makes an effort to go to the gym every day.”

Gerard ignores the disdain in her voice, impatiently waits for her to carry on, foot tapping restlessly on the soft grass.

“Oh and he had light brown hair. You know, i think it would have been a really nice shade if he would have bothered with a proper haircut, but it all looked so unkempt, especially with the overgrown beard,” she shakes her head in disapproval. “As if he had never heard of proper grooming.”

What else?” Gerard presses on and judging from her description it could still be anyone, but it also fits so well and he’s desperately clinging on to that tiny shred of hope that’s been blooming in his chest ever since she started talking about their mysterious visitor. It must be him. It _has_ to be him. He’s not going to accept any other outcome.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Mom, just please try to remember. Do you remember any of his tattoos? Anything?”

She looks uncertain. “I think there was something like a rose on one of his hands.”

Gerard goes weak in the knees. It’s Sergio. He’s sure of it now. Somehow against all odds Sergio managed to find him. It makes him feel light-headed and dizzy and happier than he’s felt in a long long time. “Where is he now?” he asks, voice trembling.

“I told him to leave and that he should stop bothering us,” his mother looks up at him with concern in her eyes. “That you want nothing to do with him. You shouldn’t associate with people like this.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Gerard snaps angrily, but mostly he just feels paralyzed by anguish. 

“Why do you even care so much?” Montserrat looks confused and concerned and a little irritated, but Gerard can’t bring himself to care. “You’re starting to scare me.”

_Because i love him_ , he wants to say, but his throat is too clogged up to speak.

“I have to go,” he chokes out instead, rushes from the garden without looking back.

“You can’t go, you have a match later,” his mother yells after him, but he ignores her.

The street is empty when he finally makes it down the driveway, no person in sight, not even a single sound as he frantically looks around, hoping to get a glimpse of him.

He spends an hour searching every street, every bus stop, every little corner of his neighborhood until he can barely walk anymore but Sergio is nowhere to be found, like he’s vanished from the face of the earth.

Eventually he has to admit defeat, dragging himself home with his head hanging and it’s never been harder to force himself to go to his football match when all he wants is to search the entire city until he finds Sergio.

But no matter how much he’s hurting he’s not going to abandon his team during one of their hardest moments of the season and he wouldn’t even know where to look for Sergio anyway, when he still hasn’t figured out how he even found him in the first place.

He decides he’s going to hire a private investigator the moment he gets back home after the match, hates himself for not thinking of it sooner.

Gerard fastens his gloves around his wrists while they walk out onto the pitch and it never stops feeling strange, the thick fabric covering his hands, the heavy weight of it and he misses being able to run around on the pitch, to exhaust himself while chasing the ball instead of watching the match from afar and he very much has a newfound appreciation for goalkeepers now, for how much discipline it takes to stay focussed for a whole ninety-minutes, for that one crucial moment that could decide an entire match.

There’s barely any fans in the stands, just a few scattered groups of people and Gerard can’t really fault them for it, when they’ve been in a relegation spot for most of the season, unsuccessfully fighting to stay in their league. His gaze wanders over the spectators and it’s the usual people, friends and family of his teammates, a few sponsors, nothing out of the ordinary until his eyes land on a person lingering just next to the entrance and he looks so achingly familiar for a few short moments Gerard thinks it must be Sergio, but it can’t be, can it?. How would he even know?

He shakes his head and jogs towards his goal, jumps to touch the crossbar for good luck, when he looks back over the person is gone.


	7. Sergio

Sergio spots him right away, his unruly head of hair sticking out above everyone else as the players march out onto the field and he can’t stop the stupidly happy grin from spreading across his face, can’t help how his chest fills with warmth at just the sight of him and God how much he’s missed him.

It takes all his willpower not to call out to him, when all he wants is to run onto the field and throw himself into his arms, but there’s not way he’s going to distract him now, not when he knows how much the whole team has riding on this match, when he doesn’t know if Gerard even wants to see him.

He lingers at the edge of the stands instead, his eyes never once leaving Gerard, retreating even more into the shadows when, for one short fleeting moment Gerard looks his way and it almost feels like their gazes met, his pulse quickening impossibly at the prospect, but it’s not how he wants to meet him for the first time in this universe, doesn’t want to be the one responsible for Gerard’s lack of concentration during the match. That is if Gerard still cares enough about him to even be affected by his presence, he thinks bitterly.

The match is excruciating to watch, a constant back and forth with no team ever having an advantage and when it finally ends in a goalless draw, Sergio breathes out in utter relief. He’s nervous enough as it is, without having to deal with Gerard right after a defeat.

The stadium empties quickly and soon it’s just him left, anxiously waiting in front of the club house as more and more players trickle out of the building, their expressions tired as they trudge to their cars and after a while Sergio beings to fear that he might have missed him, that maybe he left through a different entrance and is already on his way home, that it was all in vain. But just as he’s about to give up Gerard suddenly appears in the doorway, bag slung over his shoulders and his hair still wet at the edges, his skin still rosy from the shower and it’s such a familiar look, one he’s seen so many times after a match that it makes Sergio’s heart ache with longing.

His palms are sweaty, his hands shaking as he steps into Gerard’s line of vision and he hasn’t been this nervous in a long time, doesn’t really know how Gerard is going to react to seeing him, really just hopes he won’t walk away without a word.

“Hi,” he says tentatively, waits for the look of surprise on Gerard’s face to morph into one of recognition.

“Hi,” Gerard replies quietly and for a while they just stand there, awkwardly looking at each other, neither of them really knowing what to say. 

Sergio bounces on the soles of his feet, doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. Gerard is looking down at him with soft blue eyes and he really just wants to reach up and hug him but he’s lost that right a long time ago.

“I’m sorry,” they both blurt out at the same time, both smile right after and it feels good to hear the sound of Gerard’s laugh again.

“I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that,” Sergio admits regretfully and the argument feels like such a long time ago now, almost like it was in a different lifetime. “I’m sorry for what i said and for being so stubborn. I didn’t mean any of it,” he finishes and he still feels as guilty as on that very first day, when he woke up without Gerard next to him and he’d felt such an emptiness in his chest he could barely get out of bed.

“It wasn’t your fault alone,” Gerard shrugs. “I said things i shouldn’t have said either. I felt so hurt, i really just wanted to hurt you back,” a look of pain flashes across Gerard’s face. “I shouldn’t have been this proud, i should have just called you the next day.”

Sergio nods and it feels good to hear Gerard assume part of the blame, makes him feel stupidly hopeful that there might still be a chance for them. “So where do we go from here?” he asks, his heart almost pounding out of his chest as he waits for Gerard’s answer.

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispers, eyes dropping to he ground, intently studying his feet. “I’ll totally understand if you don’t want me back after how i acted.”

“Gerard,” Sergio says softly, waits until their eyes meet again and it feels weird pouring his heart out in the middle of an empty parking lot like this. “Don’t be stupid,” he smiles and he doesn’t wait for Gerard’s permission or for him to open his arms, doesn’t care how desperate it must look. He takes a hurried step forward and flings himself into Gerard’s arms, feels his heart almost burst with affection when Gerard’s arms immediately tighten around his waist, holding him so close against his chest that he can barely breathe.

He buries his face against the soft cotton of Gerard’s shirt, breathes in his familiar scent and he hasn’t felt this content and at peace in a long long time. “God, i missed you so much,” he mumbles, feels Gerard press a gentle kiss to his hair.

“Where are you staying?” Gerard asks when they eventually pull apart, his arm lingering possessively around Sergio’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Sergio shrugs. “I didn’t really plan this far ahead.”

“Stay with me then,” Gerard suggests, his blue eyes hopeful as he looks down at Sergio.

“Sure,” Sergio nods, doesn’t really feel like separating from Gerard anyway, now that he’s finally found him again.

“Let’s go then,” Gerard grabs his bag before he reaches for Sergio’s hand. “My car is right over there. You better prepare yourself for my mother though.”

Sergio laughs. “I can’t believe you still live at home,” he teases as he follows Gerard across the parking lot and it all feels so natural already, like they’ve never separated, like they were meant to be.

Gerard’s house doesn’t feel any less intimidating the second time and he still feels shaken from his encounter with Gerard’s mother earlier, from the open hostility and disdain in her eyes. 

“Are you sure it’s ok that you brought me here?” he asks a little hesitant. He hasn’t felt that inadequate in years. 

“Because of my mother?” Gerard asks, hand already resting on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” Sergio nods and smoothes down his t-shirt, suddenly very aware that he’s still wearing his ratty old work clothes from last night.

“I’m sorry for the way she treated you,” Gerard reaches for Sergio’s hand and squeezes it for a moment before he lets go again. “Just ignore her.”

Sergio nods, but he still feels unsure and a little anxious as they step into the house and of course they’re not even halfway through the hall when Gerard’s mother appears from the kitchen, looking at him appraisingly.

“What is he doing here?” she snaps.

“Because i invited him,” Gerard answers forcefully, steps in front of Sergio to shield him from his mother’s angry glare. “He’s going to stay over tonight and you’re going to treat him the way a guest deserves.”

Sergio almost laughs at her disgruntled expression and it feels strangely nice having Gerard stand up for him, to watch her being put into her place even if he doesn’t need anyone defending him. 

“I’ll go make up the guest bedroom then.”

“No need,” Gerard shakes his head. “He’ll stay in my room with me,” he announces and marches up the stairs without waiting for an answer.

Sergio follows him quietly.

“I’m sorry i didn’t tell her,” Gerard apologize the moment the door to his bedroom closes behind them. He throws his bag into a corner, plucks a few dirty clothes off the floor and throws them in the laundry basket. “Make yourself at home,” he mumbles and Sergio loves how he looks almost shy in his presence.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sergio curls up on the plush sofa in the corner, tucks his feet under his legs as he looks around the spacious room that is almost twice as big as his entire apartment at the ranch. “Nice room.”

“Thanks,” Gerard grins, but his expression quickly turns serious again. “But i’d much rather have my own place.”

Sergio studies him thoughtfully. “You’re not out here, aren’t you?”

“No,” Gerard shakes his head. “No one seemed to know when i got here and it didn’t feel right to just tell them. I didn’t want to ruin this Gerard’s life. What do you think happens to them anyway?” he rambles on while he keeps putting things away. “Do the other versions of us just end up living our old lives? I hope there isn’t some other Gerard ruining my career right now. Do you think there are even more different universes with different versions of us?”

“Just stop talking,” Sergio laughs. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“You’re impossible,” Gerard rolls his eyes affectionately, plops down next to Sergio, jostling the cushions enough that Sergio jumps up a little. “You know what happened though? I went on a date with Shakira,” Gerard grins proudly.

“The singer?” Sergio laughs. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Gerard smirks. “My mother apparently knows her mother, but she’s not famous in this universe.”

“Should i be jealous?” Sergio grins and he’s not going to admit how much the thought actually bothers him. He doesn’t want to share Gerard with anyone.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Gerard shoves him playfully before he scoots closer and wraps his arm around Sergio’s shoulder. “I told her about you. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Sergio hums noncommittally, at least partially appeased, especially now that he can properly cuddle with Gerard and it’s ridiculous how much he’s missed just being close to him.

“So how did you even manage to find me?” Gerard asks, his fingers playing with the soft hairs at Sergio’s nape.

Sergio laughs quietly to himself. “I stumbled upon a video of your incredible goalkeeping skills,” he chuckles. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out where you lived after that.”

“Figures,” Gerard smiles. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?” he asks, an adorable blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Probably not,” Sergio chuckles and snuggles closer.

“I’m glad you found me,” Gerard leans down to press a soft kiss to Sergio lips. “And I’m sorry i didn’t look for harder.”

“It’s fine,” Sergio shrugs and he’s a little surprised that he truly doesn’t mind. His lips still tingle from Gerard’s kiss, his heart beating like it was their very first and maybe in a way it actually was. “Maybe we needed the time apart, to realize how much we need each other.”

Gerard nods, leans down for another kiss, just as soft and gentle as the first one and Sergio quickly loses himself in the languid slide of their lips, his skin tingling all over when Gerard eventually pulls away.

“Tell me about your life here, what you’ve been up to the last few weeks,” Gerard asks, shifts on the sofa so Sergio can rest more comfortably in his arms.

It’s long after midnight when Sergio finishes sharing is story, when he’s heard all about the last month of Gerard’s new life.

He yawns tiredly and stretches out on the sofa, head resting comfortably in Gerard’s lap, Gerard’s fingers playing with his hair are slowly putting him to sleep and it feels like he hasn’t slept for days.

“You wanna go to bed?” Gerard asks, looking down at Sergio through drowsy eyes.

“Yeah,” Sergio nods. “I’m beat,” he mumbles, already disentangling himself from Gerard’s embrace, even if he’d much rather stay in his arms for the rest of the night, keep touching him and never let go.

He strips out of his pants and socks quickly, doesn’t really have anything to change into when he never even thought about bringing anything with him. Out of the corner of his eyes he watches Gerard undress, rummaging around in his dresser until he finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and it feels so achingly familiar and domestic, doing something as simple as getting ready for bed together.

“You need something to wear?” Gerard turns to face him, his eyes going soft and affectionate as he takes in Sergio’s appearance.

“A t-shirt would be nice,” Sergio says and he suddenly feels shy under Gerard’s gaze, hadn’t realized how much he missed any of this until now.

Gerard hands him a grey shirt, points towards a door at the far side of the room. “You can use the bathroom if you need. There should be a fresh toothbrush under the sink.”

Sergio takes his time in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face, stares at himself in the mirror, tries to figure out why he suddenly feels so nervous.

When he gets back to the bedroom, the lights are dimmed and Gerard is already in bed, a few pillows comfortably propped behind his head. “Get in here already,” he grins, gesturing to the other side of the bed and Sergio is not going to decline an invitation this tempting. He quickly climbs under the blanket and snuggles up to Gerard and maybe it should feel awkward or weird, sharing a bed again after so much time and everything that’s happened, but maybe he’s just too exhausted to care because all it does is feel like he’s finally where he belongs.

He sighs happily when Gerard pulls him closer against his side. “Now we just have to figure out how to get back to our own universe,” he whispers into Sergio’s hair, slides his hand under Sergio’s shirt, palm resting heavily on Sergio’s hip. 

Sergio shivers under Gerard’s touch, a smirk curling his lips. “I might know a way,” he purrs seductively, hand sneaking under the blanket and down to the waistband of Gerard’s sweats, fingers hungrily pushing underneath.

“What are you doing?” Gerard gasps, his lower body pushing up involuntarily before he stops Sergio’s questing hands.

Sergio grins. “Remember last time? We went back right after we had sex.”

“I”m not sure that’s actually how it worked,” Gerard laughs shakily. “And i’m not having sex with you with my parents next door.”

“You’re no fun,” Sergio pouts, but doesn’t push further. If he’s completely honest with himself, he’s way too exhausted anyway and he’d much rather sleep and enjoy everything else when they’re both properly rested and awake. Still he leaves his hand right where it is, loves the feel of Gerard’s warm skin underneath his palm as he leans over to press a quick kiss to his lips, before he snuggles back into his old position against Gerard chests.

“Good night,” he mumbles and he’s out cold before he’s even heard Gerard reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments. They really do mean a lot and I'm so sorry i haven't gotten around to replying to them yet. Things have been super hectic the last few weeks, but hopefully they'll calm down soon.


	8. Gerard

It’s still early when Gerard wakes. The sun is barely visible yet and there’s just enough light shining through the windows that Sergio’s sleeping form is illuminated in a soft golden glow and it still feels surreal, having Sergio in his bed again like this, sleeping peacefully when less than a day ago Gerard didn’t even know where he was.

He hadn’t quite believed his eyes, when Sergio had stood in front of him yesterday, in the middle of a half empty parking lot, his hair a bit longer and his beard more unruly, but looking up at him through that same set of warm brown eyes that Gerard loves so much.

He gazes down at Sergio’s profile, the strong slope of his nose and the curl of his plush lips, the familiar scars on his forehead and maybe he should just go back to sleep and rest a little more, but it feels like such a waste of time when he could be looking at Sergio instead, when it still feels like a dream that he’s not nearly ready yet to wake up from. 

It takes considerable effort to tear himself away from the sight of Sergio’s silhouette, to roll himself out of bed without a sound, but he knows in the end it’ll be more than worth it, so he grabs his phone and sneaks out of the room, calls in sick to work and slides back into bed without an ounce of guilt.

Sergio stirs at the sudden movement of the mattress and for a moment Gerard is afraid that he accidentally woke him, but he only rolls onto his back, still fast asleep, his lips parting just enough to let out soft little snores and God he’s truly screwed now when suddenly he finds those noises that used to annoy him endlessly, beyond endearing. He drags his fingers down Sergio’s cheek, pushes a strand of hair off his face and he knows they still have a lot to figure out. They still don’t know how their future is going to play out, how to build a life together and he doesn’t even know if Sergio even wants to get back together, what this thing between them is. They haven’t talked about any of it and Gerard has no idea how to even approach the subject. He really just wants to pretend there’s nothing going on and live in their blissful bubble for a little while longer, before the discussions about their future inevitably turn ugly again.

“Stop looking at me while i’m sleeping. It’s creepy,” Sergio’s words startle him out of his thoughts and Gerard can’t help but laugh. Sergio has always been way too good at unsettling him.

“It’s your own fault for sleeping so long,” he replies with a grin and God he wants this all the time, wants to wake up to Sergio’s smile and his grabby hands every single morning.

“Hmpf,” Sergio rolls onto his stomach, buries his face in the pillows. “Don’t you have to go to work today?”

“I called in sick,” Gerard explains, pokes at Sergio’s side until he turns around again, wrenching one eye open to glare at him. Gerard chuckles. “Don’t be lazy.”

“I had a long day,” Sergio pouts, swats at Gerard’s hands. “And i need a shower.”

“Go right ahead,” Gerard nods towards the bathroom.

“Wanna join me?” Sergio blinks up at him innocently.

“No way,” Gerard laughs. “We both know you can never keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh come on,” Sergio rolls his eyes playfully. “It’s just a shower.”

Gerard grins. “It’s never just a shower with you.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Sergio pouts.

“Not one bit,” Gerard gasps when he suddenly finds himself on his back, Sergio half lying on top of him, looking down at him with his big brown eyes. “I just want to spend as much time as possible with you. It’s been so long and i’ve really missed you, you know,” he whispers and then his gone, leaving Gerard lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling and how is he supposed to resists any of this? Sergio’s puppy eyes and the way his heart flutters in his chest from Sergio’s words alone.

He heaves himself out of bed with a sigh, follows Sergio to the bathroom. “You played me, didn’t you?” he asks when he finds Sergio leaning against the sink, already half undressed, smirking proudly.

“I knew it would work,” Sergio grins, hooks his fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pushes them off.

Gerard shakes his head in amusement, his eyes following Sergio’s naked frame as he walks towards the shower and after months it feels good to finally be able to look at that familiar canvas of his tattoos again.

“I meant every word of it though,” Sergio says quietly, just before he vanishes into the shower.

Gerard finds himself reeling from Sergio’s words, his heart beating wildly in his chest and maybe they still have a chance. Maybe Sergio still loves him too.

“What’s taking you so long?”

There’s steam rising from the shower and Gerard’s fingers shake while he undresses and if he was less of a coward he would confess it all right now.

“Sergio..,” he whispers softly, just as the door of the shower clicks shut behind him, but before he can get out another word, Sergio’s hands are on him, dragging him under the hot spray and kissing him hungrily, wet bodies pressing together tightly, hands roaming over naked skin until Gerard all but forgets his own name.

“What are you doing?” he gasps when Sergio suddenly pulls away, sinking to his knees with a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Sucking your dick or proposing. Your choice.”

Gerard laughs brokenly. “You’re an idiot. Get back up here,” he pulls Sergio back to his feet, wraps his arms around his waist, hands settling on the supple curve of his ass, kisses him instead. “My mother is still home,” he whispers against his soft lips, feels his resolve crumble with every passing second.

Sergio groans. “You seriously need to get your own place.”

Gerard chuckles, but it’s not like he can disagree. He trails his fingers up Sergio’s sides, never wants to stop touching him. “Says the stable boy who barely has his own room,” he grins.

“It’s called ranch hand,” Sergio pinches him in the sides, tickles him until Gerard yelps in pain.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Gerard chuckles, tries to squirm away from Sergio’s teasing touch. “So what do you wanna do today?”

Sergio shrugs. “Stay here with you all day?” He slides his hands into Gerard’s wet hair, drags his head down for another languid kiss. “It’s not like we can go out or anything,” he says sadly. “I have nothing to wear.”

“Let’s go shopping then,” Gerard suggests, a shiver running down his spine when Sergio”s fingers start scratching his scalp, sending pleasant tingles all over his skin.

“I can’t,” Sergio’s face falls. “I don’t have any money left. I spent the last of it on the train ticket.”

“Let me pay then,” Gerard offers, pulls Sergio close enough that they’re both under the hot spray, steam billowing around them.

“Why?”

_Because I love you._ Gerard buries his face against Sergio’s neck, tries to hide the emotions suddenly welling up inside him. “Because you came all the way to Barcelona for me and i want to repay you,” he explains, his voice treacherously unsteady. “Let me spoil you just this once. Please.”

“Fine,” Sergio nods against his chest, the scratch of his beard against his skin so achingly familiar, that Gerard’s heart aches. “I can’t believe you’d willingly go shopping with me,” he laughs.

Instead of answering Gerard lifts up his chin and kisses him until they’re both breathless.

It takes a long time until they finally make it out of the shower.

Four hours and seven stores later, Gerard is very much starting to regret ever making the offer to go shopping with Sergio. There are bags over bags piling up next to him, he can barely feel his feet anymore and yet he’s sitting on front of yet another dressing room, waiting for Sergio to try on even more clothes.

“How do I look?” 

Gerard’s head snaps up at the sound of Sergio’s cheerful voice, watches him spin around in front of the mirror with a happy smile on his face.

He rolls his eyes at the outrageous leopard print on Sergio’s new pants, barely manages not to make a dumb joke but of course if anyone could pull off a look this ridiculous, it would be Sergio, the soft fabric hugging his muscular legs so perfectly, Gerard’s mouth goes dry. “Do you want an honest answer?” he teases, just because he loves seeing the fire in Sergio’s eyes.

“Just admit i look amazing,” Sergio replies with smirk. “I can see you drooling all the way from here.”

“Whatever,” Gerard laughs, tears his gaze away from the supple curve of Sergio’s ass with some difficulty. “Go try on that suit i picked for you, so we can finally get out of here. I’m starving,” his stomach growls in agreement.

“You’re no fun,” Sergio pouts, but disappears back into the dressing room anyway. ‘What do i need a suit for anyway?” he asks from behind the wooden door.

“So i can take you out to dinner,” Gerard answers, keeps it to himself that maybe he just wants an excuse to look at Sergio in a suit.

When they finally leave the last store, casually strolling down Las Ramblas, it’s already growing dark and there’s people bustling about all around them. And it’s nice, being able to be out in public together, walking next to each other without anyone taking notice, without having to hide from photographers and fans all the time.

“Thank you,” Sergio says from next to him. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“You’re welcome,” Gerard replies, his heart ridiculously warm and fuzzy at the edges and yet he still startles when Sergio’s hand brushes his own, when he tries to interlace their fingers and he hates that his first response is to pull back and look around in fear, that his brain is all but screaming at him to put as much distance between them as possible, lest anyone figure out just how much they mean to each other.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, reaches out until he can grasp Sergio’s hand again, intertwines their fingers so tightly it almost hurts and all he wants is to never let go again.

“It’s fine,” Sergio shrugs, but Gerard can hear the resignation in his voice, like he’s made his peace with always having to hide their relationship a long time ago.

Gerard hates the thought. “It’s really not,” he starts, but Sergio squeezing his hand silences his next words.

“Gerard,” Sergio turns his head to look up at him, expression unreadable. “I think we need to talk.”


	9. Sergio & Gerard

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have this conversation in the middle of a restaurant. Sergio nervously fiddles with the knot of his tie as the waiter fills their glasses, Gerard across from him seems equally uncomfortable while he’s looking anywhere but at Sergio and maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut. 

Everything had been strained from the moment he had blurted out those words so carelessly, when everything had been perfect between them and he could have just enjoyed his night. They’d barely spoken on the drive home, getting ready in Gerard’s bedroom without really looking at each other, no teasing comments, not even a glance from Gerard when he’d messed up the knot of his tie and had to do it all over again and it hurts how awkward things suddenly are between them.

The waiter places their plates in front of them and the food looks delicious, perfectly cooked and well seasoned, and yet it still tastes like cardboard when Sergio takes the first bite, can barely force himself to swallow another and the tense atmosphere is starting to suffocate him.

He puts his fork down next to his plate, forces himself to look up at Gerard. “I want more,” he says, takes a deep breath before he continues, his stomach tied in knots. “I’m sick of never seeing you. I want us to have more time together, not just one night every few weeks, when our schedules allow and we’re both so tired we can barely think. It’s not enough for me anymore. I want to have a proper future with you, build a life with you. I want to introduce you to my family. I want to meet yours,” Sergio stares down at his hands. “I just hope your real mom is nicer than the one here in this universe.”

Gerard lets out a surprised laugh. “Don’t worry. She’s nothing like that. She’s gonna love you.”

“Good,” Sergio allows himself a soft smile, feels reassured for the moment, before the persistent knot in his stomach chases away the feeling again. His knees won’t stop vibrating underneath the table, nervous energy coursing through his entire body. “But I get it if it’s not what you want,” he twirls his empty glass around in his fingers, pauses when the waiter comes by to refill it. “If you’ve moved on … after our argument …the break up … it’s fine. I get it. I promise i won’t bother you again…I just needed you to know….”

“The whole argument was bullshit,” Gerard interrupts him forcefully, scratches his beard as he tries to sort through his jumbled thoughts. “I didn’t mean any of the things i said that night,” he looks down at the table, his expression defeated. “I don’t even remember why i said any of them … looking back at it now … knowing how miserable i was without you… It was stupid and i’m sorry,” he pauses, clears his throat. “I don’t care where we live. Most of my businesses are in Madrid anyway. We can go to Seville whenever we have time off or to Barcelona or wherever. I just want to be with you. I don’t care about anything else.”

“You really mean that?” Sergio feels his heart pound all the way up into his throat, doesn’t really trust his ears or his voice for that matter, doesn’t want to get his hopes up just to have them crushed all over again.

“God Sergio,” Gerard reaches out across the table, covers Sergio’s hand with his own, fingers intertwining tentatively. “Of course i do. I still love you.”

There’s the sound of shattering glass in the distance and a surprised gasps, someone is clearing the table next to them, but Sergio doesn’t notice any of it, can’t focus on anything but the warmth in Gerard’s blue eyes as their gazes hold for what feels like eternity.

“I love you too,” he finally says, feels his heart skip a beat when Gerard’s fingers tighten around his own.

“There’s just something I need,” Gerard’s expression suddenly turns serious again and Sergio feels his stomach drop out. Just when he thought everything would turn out fine.

“What is it?” he asks unsteadily, hates how vulnerable he feels. He pulls his hand out from underneath Gerard’s, folds them in his lap instead.

Gerard flinches at the sudden loss of contact, but Sergio can’t really bring himself to care. If they weren’t in public, he’d be pacing the length of the room or yelling at Gerard to just spit it out. He hates waiting. If there’s something unpleasant, he just wants to know, so he can deal with it.

“I know it’s asking a lot of you,” Gerard nervously fiddles with his fork and Sergio wonders if he already regrets speaking up. He looks slightly nauseous. “But i don’t want to hide anymore. I can’t do it anymore. It’s tearing me apart having to lie to everyone. I want people to know about us. I want to be able to go out with you in public and take you to events and do all the things other couples do without constantly having to look over my shoulder.”

“You want to come out? As a couple?” Sergio asks incredulously, still hasn’t fully processed that Gerard isn’t asking for less, that he isn’t trying to slow down their relationship and maybe he should have seen it coming, when he’s thought about it too sometimes, wished for it even.

“Yeah,” Gerard nods.

“I’m not ready to retire yet,” Sergio says quietly, looks down at his plate because he can’t face the rejection in Gerard’s eyes, wonders if his words are going to destroy everything they’ve just rebuilt. The food must have gotten cold by now, but he can’t really bring himself to care. “I want to keep playing for a few more years and i think i might want to coach in the future … i’m sorry….,” he trails off sadly.

Gerard reaches across the table, lifts up Sergio’s chin so their eyes meet. “Who says we have to retire to come out? Who cares if we’re still playing?”

Sergio’s eyes widen. “People are gonna go crazy. The press, the fans…”

“So?” Gerard shrugs. “People talk shit about us on a daily basis. How much worse could it possibly get? As long as i get to be with you, i don’t really care what people think of me.”

“You’re really serious about this,” Sergio gapes at Gerard and now he can’t stop imagining what life would be like. All the time they could finally spend with each other, all the things they could do. It’s something he’s never even allowed himself to dream about.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” 

“Fine,” Sergio agrees, a little surprised at how easy it was to make a decision of this magnitude. How right it feels. “I guess it’s about time someone finally did it.” He allows himself a teasing smirk. “But I’m not taking you to any Real Madrid team dinners.”

“You’re no fun,” Gerard laughs, clinks his glass against Sergio’s.

\---------------

Gerard has a headache. Not a particularly bad one, just the usual pressure you get from drinking too much and sleeping too little. Maybe they should have skipped the second bottle of wine, shouldn’t have stayed up most of the night. He rolls over and blindly fumbles around next to him, still too tired to properly open his eyes, hand sliding along the mattress in search of Sergio, looking for his warm body to curl into and go back to sleep, but the bed is empty, the sheets cold to the touch, like no one has slept there at all.

Before panic can settle in his chest, his phone rings. 

“Yes?” he answers, doesn’t really bother looking at the screen.

“Did I seriously just wake you?” 

Gerard startles at the sound of Sergio’s voice, wonders why in the world he would be calling, when they’re sharing the same house, room even. “What?” he mumbles drowsily, can’t properly bring himself to wake up.

Sergio huffs out an incredulous breath. “Just turn on the damn lights,” he chuckles and he sounds so cheerful that it instantly soothes the fear in Gerard’s heart If he sounds like this it can’t possibly be anything bad. The last two days weren’t just all a dream.

He grapples for the light switch, almost makes his lamp tumble to the ground in the process, but then the room is dipped in a soft glow and his mouth falls open in surprise.

He’s back in his house, in his own reality and he should probably be ecstatic about it, but all there is is a hollow feeling in his chest, Sergio’s soft breathing on the other line suddenly more taunting than comforting, because he’s not ready yet to go back to this, to being hundreds of kilometers apart, leading separate lives and barely any time to see each other. If only they could have had some more time together in the other universe. 

“Geri?” There’s amusement in Sergio’s voice and maybe a hint of impatience. “Can you maybe open the door? It’s cold as fuck out here.”

Gerard all but tumbles out of bed and rushes through his house, opening the door in nothing but his underwear and a flimsy t-shirt, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Sergio standing on his doorstep, hands stuffed in his pockets and beaming up at him with a bright smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asks dumbly, can’t stop grinning back at Sergio.

“I woke up in the middle of the night, realized where a was and drove straight here. I really wanted to see you,” Sergio admits.

“I’m glad you did,” Gerard smiles warmly. “I missed you.” He barely manages to keep himself upright, when Sergio flings himself into his arms with the full weight of his body, pushing their mouths together in a languid kiss.

“I was barely gone,” Sergio laughs when they eventually pull apart, wraps his arms around Gerard’s waist.

“Just take the damn compliment before I take it back,” Gerard grins, playfully tugs on the long hairs of Sergio’s beard. “Are you ever going to cut that thing off?” he asks with a smirk.

“Never,” Sergio shakes his head, grinning. “It looks amazing.”

“No comment,” Gerard laughs, drags Sergio into the house and closes the door behind them.

They shower together and have breakfast together and it all feels so terribly domestic Gerard’s heart almost bursts with affection, even if Sergio burns the toast and the milk is stale.

Putting the last of their plates into the sink, Gerard steps up behind Sergio, wraps his arms around his waist and presses a soft kiss to his neck. “Ready hold our press conference?” he asks with a smile, can’t stop breathing in the smell of Sergio’s skin.

“Can’t wait,” Sergio replies, turning in Gerard’s arms so he can kiss him properly. “Or you could just tweet a picture of us, post it on instagram and watch insanity unfurl.”

Gerard laughs. “Sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Kudos and Comments. Don't be shy, i usually don't bite ;)


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